


Concert

by AuroraNova



Series: The Vadari Chronicles [17]
Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: M/M, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-17
Updated: 2019-09-17
Packaged: 2020-10-20 14:23:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,978
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20676863
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AuroraNova/pseuds/AuroraNova
Summary: “Cuddling under the same blanket is very romantic.”Julian and Elim go on their first public date. Furthermore, Julian reflects on personal growth and friendship.





	Concert

**Author's Note:**

> If the first part of this fic seems like it could have been left out, it plays in with something I intend to introduce later down the line, as long as the muse keeps interest in the series. (I make no promises for my muse. It has a mind of its own and will not be corralled.) 
> 
> The Cardassi phrase is of my own making, as I prefer. Read it as "ta-sigh-ell."

Julian and Ezri have finally managed to hold a live conversation. Between time differences, emergencies both medical and counseling, and the odd away mission for Ezri, arranging a live call isn’t always easy. At least Miles has a fairly predictable schedule these days, and he’s enjoying it to no end. Recitals, he says, are more enjoyable when he doesn’t have to worry about being called away before Molly is on.

“I’ve decided something,” says Ezri. “I’m going to be the first Trill in eight hundred years to refuse a zhian’tara.”

“I didn’t know that was an option.” Julian had thought he might end up offering to host Joran and is not sorry it won’t be necessary.

“Technically, it isn’t. You have to sign a pledge before joining.”

The loophole is obvious. “Which you didn’t.”

“I don’t think it’s a bad rite. Making peace with your past lives is important, but I’ve done that my own way.”

“The Symbiosis Commission won’t be pleased, I take it.” Julian thinks poorly of the institution, seeing how they were willing to let Jadzia die to protect their comfortable status quo and, not incidentally, power.

Ezri nods. “I think they’re going to write this lifetime off and give Dax to the dullest rule-follower they can find for the next host.”

Julian always got the impression they tried giving Dax to a rule-follower (if not a dull one) with Jadzia, in an effort to balance Curzon’s influence, and look how that turned out. “Don’t sell yourself short,” he says.

“I’m not. That’s my take on their perspective.”

It’s probably accurate. “I’m all for ignoring expectations which don’t suit.”

“I’ve noticed,” Ezri deadpans.

After a moment of comfortable silence, Julian changes the subject. There’s something he’s been meaning to run by her for perspective. “I’ve come to a realization of my own.”

“What’s that?”

“As much as I like to help people, there are some situations which can’t be fixed, and it’s frankly insulting to try.”

“Wanting to help isn’t a bad thing, Julian.”

“I still want to help,” he protests, in case he wasn’t clear. “I imagine I will for my entire life, but it’s not always possible the quick ways I’d prefer.”

Ezri nods. “You’re being realistic. Sometimes all you can do is be there when someone is hurting.”

That’s the part Julian has never been good with. He wants to be proactive, to resolve the problem satisfactorily. If there’s one lesson he’s learned from the last months – months of stewing in the injustice of Section 31 and his discharge, of Elim’s silent pain at having to leave Cardassia and watching his homeworld struggle from afar, of treating innocent victims targeted by the Breen for no military reason – it’s that shortcuts through suffering are not always available. In fact, they’re downright rare.

Helplessness has never sat well with Julian, but he’s learning to see that inability to solve the underlying problem doesn’t necessarily mean uselessness.

“Is the situation getting better?” asks Ezri gently.

“Yes.” All of them are, in fact. “Life is settling into a new normal.”

“It does that,” she says with all the wisdom of Dax’s years. “Even when we think it can’t.”

Julian supposes if the woman who took on eight lifetimes with fifteen minutes’ warning and no training can believe so, everyone can.

“What do people do for fun on Vadari VII?”

“Gossip,” he says crossly. “I’m a favorite subject.”

“People gossip everywhere. There’s a rumor going around here that Kira and Shakaar are going to get back together. They aren’t. It was a friendly business lunch.”

“If Kira wants to commiserate, she can comm me.”

He and Kira haven’t kept in touch. They were never close to begin with, and Julian is well aware he got their professional relationship off to a rocky start. He’s fairly sure the tremendous respect he feels for Kira is at least partially reciprocated these days, which is something.

Moving on, he says, “There’s a travelling orchestra visiting today and tomorrow. Elim and I are going tonight.” It will be their first public date. Neither of them is an especially keen music enthusiast, but they are interested in a change of pace, and a concert is as good a subject to debate as anything else.

“We should get one here,” says Ezri. “I might look into it.” On her end, an alarm beeps. “I have to wrap up. My lunch break is over.”

“About zhian’tara.” Julian feels obligated to mention this, on the off chance she reconsiders down the road. “If you change your mind, I’ll host Joran.”

He might as well have cured death, the way Ezri looks at him. “That’s the nicest thing anyone has offered to do for me, Julian. Thank you.”

“Yes, well, it’s what friends are for, right?” Julian hasn’t had a great many friends in his life, but he’s fiercely devoted to those he does.

“Letting the memory imprint of a dead serial killer borrow your body is above and beyond,” she says firmly. “I doubt I’ll change my mind, but thank you. Oh, my patient is here. Take care and enjoy the concert. I can picture you and Garak argue-flirting about it.” With a grin, she closes the channel.

It may have taken Julian years to make true friends, but he wouldn’t change the ones he has for anything.

* * *

Elim, bemused by the concept of a double date, agreed to attend the concert with Kara and Lutro. Therefore, the four of them head out together toward the field where sound systems have been arranged. It’s a beautiful autumn evening, so no worry about being rained out, but Elim is thoroughly wrapped in warm layers of clothing.

Julian is concerned that Elim will downplay how cold he is. It’s practically a foregone conclusion. To this end, he has a blanket draped over one arm despite Elim’s protests that it won’t be necessary. Kara immediately spots it.

“We had the same idea,” she says, gesturing to the one Lutro is carrying. “Cuddling under the same blanket is very romantic.”

Elim blinks in surprise. “You might have mentioned that connotation,” he tells Julian. Anyone else would think he’s scolding, but he’s really pleased that, one, he can enjoy staying warm without standing out or calling attention to his weakness, and two, Julian managed to surprise him with this piece of information.

“I told you nobody would think it’s strange.”

“We’re going to a field. It’s about as far from a formal evening out as you can get,” says Kara, and with that, she leads the way outside.

“Wait. You didn’t tell him it’s romantic?” Lutro asks.

“I have to surprise him when I can.” It’s a difficult task, but one Julian embraces happily.

Once out of their building, they join a steady procession towards the improvised concern venue. Kara turns to Julian. “Can I ask you something?”

“Since when do you request permission?” It’s one of the things he likes about her. He always knows where he stands with Kara.

“You said the two of you were friends for years before you came here. Do you ever feel like you wasted time you could’ve been together, or are you glad you waited?”

“I for one am glad we waited,” says Julian. “It never would’ve worked before. I’m afraid I was a contender for the least mature twenty-seven-year-old in the Bajoran sector when we met, and he had his own personal growth to do.”

Elim maintains his carefully neutral expression. Julian won’t go into details such as “he was still hoping to once more be his father’s right-hand man keeping Cardassia as a police state, but don’t worry, he’s no longer interested in propping up fascism,” but neither will he pretend he was the only one unready for a serious relationship at the time.

“Don’t worry, Garak, I know better than to ask him what he means,” says Kara. “Though, if you ever want to tell me stories about this least mature twenty-seven-year-old business, I’m all ears.”

“I’d prefer not to earn Julian’s ire, thank you.”

Lutro snickers. Elim looks to be enjoying his evening entertainment.

“Anyway,” Julian says, already regretting his confession, “it wouldn’t have been a good idea for any number of reasons.”

“At the time, I had no idea he was capable of such pragmatism.” Only Elim can sound so proud about this. “Nevertheless, I concur with his answer to your question.”

It’s all either of them cares to say on the subject, so the conversation moves on. “Do you two want me to replicate anything while I’m at the conference?” Lutro asks. He’s leaving for a beekeeping conference soon, which is how Julian learned there is such a thing. “I’m putting together a list.”

“No, thank you,” says Elim.

Julian is having none of his partner’s loner tendencies. “He’ll take chocolate truffles, and I wouldn’t mind Tarkalean tea. Shall I send you the credits?”

Kara grins at Elim’s annoyed expression. “Chocolate, hmm? You should’ve said something. I have a delicious chocolate cake recipe, and I could swap out the butter for you.” She’s unfailingly conscientious about Elim’s intolerance for dairy (a weakness he conceded was worth disclosing to avoid suffering every time he eats Kara’s food). 

Kara can get cocoa for her baking, but unfortunately for Elim, truffles are still seen as a frivolous use of the industrial replicators. He’ll enjoy anything Lutro can bring back, mild glare turned Julian’s way notwithstanding.

“Credits would be good,” says Lutro. “Thank you.”

“Thank you for replicating. Other teas just aren’t the same.” Red leaf is Julian’s second favorite, but Elim says his tree is a year away from being able to harvest, and even then will give small quantities. There’s only so much a single tree can produce.

In the field, they settle down to watch the show just as the sun sets. Julian opens up the blanket and covers himself and Elim with it, taking care to sit very close together. He’s perfectly aware that everyone nearby is watching unsubtly and doesn’t particularly care. They’re far from the only couple sharing a blanket on this breezy evening.

“Are we ignoring the rude stares, or returning them in the hopes people grow ashamed of their impropriety?” asks Elim quietly.

“I’m ignoring them. You can do whatever you like.”

Elim settles for making brief eye contact whenever he feels someone’s gaze has lingered too long. Just enough to unsettle them, not enough to threaten. After a few minutes of this, Julian comes to a realization.

Elim is absolutely thrilled to be out in public making it clear that Julian is with him. Of course. He watched Julian pursue and date other people for years, and now he finally gets to stake his claim. Cardassians are, after all, known for being possessive, and Elim is no exception. He wants everyone here tonight to see without a doubt that Julian is spoken for.

There’s no reason not to indulge him. Julian grab’s Elim’s hand and entwines it tightly with his own, then leans in so they’re pressed together properly.

“Ta-siyel,” murmurs Elim, staring down another gawker.

It’s unexpectedly romantic of him, most definitely an effort. _For you I fight_. He explained this term the other day during one of their Cardassi lessons as ‘a rather outdated phrase meaning that no amount of opposition will deter the speaker from pledging themselves to another. Not necessarily romantic, but often used that way in modern parlance when it’s used at all.’

“Ta-siyel, Elim.” Julian has figured out that Elim still harbors a few insecurities to which he’d rather not admit. There’s not much for them but time and consistent demonstrations that Julian adores him and isn’t going anywhere. “Always.”

The concert is enjoyable, their spirited debate following it invigorating, and still what Julian takes away from the evening is that soft declaration of devotion.


End file.
